Breaching The Castle
by GeekMom
Summary: Sequel to The Castle Wall. The Buchanan brothers have escaped. Joe holds Castle responsible for his failed life and Liam, his older brother, is just plain evil. I don't own Castle or any of the characters created by the imaginative and creative minds of Andrew Marlowe and company. I do own the plot and the additional characters. I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading! GeekMom
1. Panic

**A/N - This is a sequel to The Castle Wall. I recommend reading that story first. I hope that I have begun another wonderful (or terrifying) adventure for you, the lovely readers. Please review and let me know if you think I'm on a good track. Thanks! **

**~GeekMom**

* * *

**Breaching the Castle**

**Chapter One**

**Panic**

Somewhere between the familiar bustle and feeling of Manhattan and the winding foothills and mountain passes of Ulster County, Richard Castle's world crashed. He, Beckett, Ryan, Esposito, and Gates were enjoying the drive and each other's company while on their way to Kingston to participate in the trial of Joe and Liam Buchanan. The brothers had abducted Castle and Beckett and kept them imprisoned in a vast underground tunnel system on their family farm in Denning over a period of days, several months before. When Esposito and Ryan found Beckett, she was dehydrated and suffering cuts and contusions. Castle had been beaten and shot during an escape attempt. The brothers were arrested and charged, not only with the crimes against Castle and Beckett, but also in the cold disappearance and murder case of a local girl, Missy Young. Her remains had been found in the tunnels.

The brothers were originally arraigned in Manhattan on the kidnapping charges, but their lawyers had argued successfully to have the venue of the trial moved to Kingston on the grounds of expediency since they were being tried for unlawful imprisonment there anyway. Castle had hired a car and booked hotel rooms for the five of them for the duration of the trial.

He was feeling confident and stronger emotionally than he had in the immediate days and weeks following what he dubbed as the 'all expenses paid weekend in hell'. The mental and physical effects of Patricia Stoddard and the Buchanan's actions took him months of therapy to overcome. He denied the pain and emotional trauma at first, and then tried to deaden it with self-destructive behavior. Kate put an end to that swiftly. She knew that he had, in the past, overindulged in drinking and recklessness to dull whatever hurt he had endured; Kyra's departure, Meredith's betrayal, and they had even talked about his periods of loneliness and self-doubt. As Kate got to know him better, and as their lives intertwined more closely, she discovered that he had never been that self-absorbed and carefree playboy from page six. It was all a front to sell the books. It had been effective at selling books but also in causing him harm. No, she wouldn't allow him to go down that road again so she recommended therapy. They argued; one of their worst fights since they had been a couple. She had been to see Dr. Burke right after they had escaped the Buchanan's prison. He refused even to consider it, until, after Stoddard's conviction, he celebrated by painting on a false smile for his friends, but when he was alone, he berated himself for his lack of sound judgement, emptied a bottle of bourbon, drowned in the evidence from the trial, and ended the fun-filled night sobbing in her arms. She convinced him to start seeing Dr. Burke the next day. He was better, well getting better. He had stopped blaming himself for the actions of other people, deranged or not, stopped suspecting _every_ person who wanted an autograph or photo and stopped punishing himself. He had relaxed more and stopped shouldering the guilt. Until that phone call.

* * *

They were riding in the back of the SUV limo. The boys were playing a game on Castle's phone, Gates was enjoying the scenery and Castle was teasing Beckett about her snoring when Gates' phone rang. "Captain Gates. Oh, hello Sheriff Callis, yes. We're on our way now, actually." She listened intently. "Thank you, yes, I understand. Is there anything we can do? Right. Please keep me informed." She hung up the phone. All four faces had her attention. "That was Sheriff Callis. Apparently, the trial's been postponed. The Buchanan brothers have escaped custody."

* * *

_'The Buchanan brothers have escaped custody.' _He heard it replayed in his head over and over again, _'the Buchanan brothers have escaped custody'._ The next things he heard were Esposito and Ryan on their phones. Espo called in a BOLO, having Karpowski pull up all of the information on the brothers that they had. Ryan ordered protective details for Alexis and Martha. He vaguely heard the captain speaking with the state police about the manhunt. Beckett was also on the phone. She had ordered Buchanan's apartment in the city placed under surveillance. She hung her phone up and looked across the back of the SUV at him. More specifically at the loss of color in his face, his slightly sweaty forehead, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as breathed shallowly through his mouth. She reached across and touched his knee. He didn't register the touch at first, but then raised his eyes to hers. She hadn't seen the look in months. He was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack, but had just enough control, although Kate couldn't fathom from where he was drawing it, so he could keep it concealed from the captain and the boys. He shook his head imperceptibly. He bounced his right leg, an outlet for the energy threatening to explode from him. He reached behind him to the glass divider between the passenger compartment and the driver and knocked. It lowered immediately.

"Yes, Mr. Castle?"

His voice was shaky, "John, I need you to find the nearest rest stop please."

"Yes, sir. We just passed a gas station, two miles back. Should I turn around?"

"Yes, thanks, John." He ran his palm across his forehead and wiped it on his jeans.

The other passengers noticed the U-turn, but didn't comment. When the SUV pulled up to a mom and pop gas station, he practically launched himself out of the back door. He disappeared into the office and reappeared with a key. Kate took solace that at least he was still thinking rationally or at least logically.

After several minutes of silence and avoided eye contact in the back of the SUV, Captain Gates turned her head to Kate and asked, "Is Mr. Castle alright? Do you think we should check on him?"

"Uh, I'm sure he's fine, captain," she lied. She didn't think he was fine at all and it took all of her strength to remain in the vehicle, but the silent plea in his eyes was unmistakable. "But, since we're waiting, maybe I'll take advantage of the facilities as well." He couldn't be mad at her for having to pee, she rationalized. She also went to the office and came out with a key and disappeared around the side of the building.

She bypassed the women's room and knocked on the men's room door. There was no answer. She knocked harder but was only answered with more silence. She tried the doorknob to find it unlocked. She pushed the battered door open. "Rick?" She called into the green hued light of the tiny squalid room. The key was on the counter top by the sink, but Castle wasn't in the room. She spun and rushed out the door into the solid frame of Esposito.

He pursed his lips as he looked at her. "Castle?"

She shook her head. He could see the multitude of scenarios that were playing in her head.

"Beckett," he snapped to get her attention, "he's right around here. I'll start looking, you get Ryan."

"But, how…"

He shook his head, "Castle is my partner and friend too, and I know a panic attack when I see one. When they were really bad right after, you know, all this," he waved his hand in front of him, "I went and got him a couple of times. He wouldn't go in anywhere. He told me that part of how he was feeling was claustrophobic. He'll be out here somewhere. We'll find him."

Kate nodded and headed back to the SUV. She opened the back door. "Ryan, Espo needs your help. He's around back." Kevin nodded.

"Is Castle okay?" The captain's voice was soft, concerned, and womanly. It threw Kate. She was so used to Gates being strong, in charge, and no-nonsense; earning the 'sir' she preferred to be called and daring anyone not to use it.

She looked at the other woman. She was her boss and had made it abundantly clear how she felt about Castle. "No, no sir, he's not." She wasn't sure if she should elaborate.

"Kate," Gates voice was soft, soothing, and almost maternal as she touched her shoulder. Kate almost recoiled. Gates chuckled. "Look, I know I'm your boss and that I haven't been exactly forthcoming with my feelings for Mr. Castle, but I am still a woman and a perceptive woman at that. I could see the cost of this ordeal on the both of you six months ago and I can see it now. I'm tough, detective, but not unfeeling." Kate just stared at her. "I want you to know that I'm here for you. I'll do whatever I have to to get these animals back in custody and punished to the fullest extent." Her eyes were on fire with a passion she had rarely seen from Gates.

"Thank you, sir, from me and I'm sure from Castle, as well."

Victoria Gates smiled to herself. Beckett was always so guarded of her relationship with Mr. Castle. During the Stoddard investigation, Gates had screened the woman's videos of Mr. Castle's loft. She had seen the comings and goings of his family and of Beckett. She knew they were close, and good partners. She had suspicions about the nature of their partnership which had been confirmed with the stalker's video of Castle's kiss leaving Beckett incapacitated and breathless. Watching the kiss left Gates a little breathless too. She was concerned about their professionalism, but hadn't seen any indication of anything but. She decided that she could keep their secret and deny any knowledge.

"Don't you think you should help Detectives Ryan and Esposito?" She smoothed her slacks over her thighs. "I'll wait here."

Kate was incredulous. Yes! She wanted, no, needed to be helping to calm Rick down. She jumped out of the SUV saying, "Thank you," and her eyes met Gates in a moment of understanding.

She ran around to the back of the service station, but there was no sign of Castle, Ryan or Esposito. She dug her phone out of her front pocket, automatically pulled up Rick's icon, but then hesitated; she didn't want to startle him. She pressed Ryan's number.

"Ryan"

"Where are you?"

"Beckett? We're a few feet down the trail behind the station."

She didn't let him finish. "I'll be there in a minute."

* * *

Castle staggered out of the back of the SUV and into the gas station. "Restroom key," he breathlessly said to the woman behind the counter. He must have looked horrible because she hurriedly thrust the key in his direction and said it's around back, pointing out the door and to the left. "Thanks," he mumbled and ran out and around the building. He fumbled with the key and the lock. When he finally got it to cooperate with his shaking hands, he headed for the commode. He made it just in time to empty the contents his stomach into the yellowed, rust stained toilet. He stood up from his knees and went to the sink. He looked in the mirror and sighed. He ran the water and then splashed it on his face, getting his shirt wet, but he didn't care or didn't notice.

He looked back into the mirror. His reflection warped and stretched until he was looking down a long darkened tunnel progressively getting smaller. He had trouble breathing. Have. To. Get. Out. He burst through the door and looked around, not recognizing where he was. He just knew he needed to be out. He saw the trail back by the dumpster and ran to it. He ran and stumbled down the narrow footpath through thick trees and underbrush until he came to a clearing. There was a large rocky outcropping in the face of the hillside. He clambered on top of the boulder and sat, too dizzy to stand from his heart hammering a rushed staccato rhythm and his breathing trying desperately to keep up. He was out, outside, seemingly suspended over the valley laid out below him.

That's where Esposito and Ryan found him.

* * *

"Espo?" Ryan ran around the corner of the building. "Castle?"

"Ryan, down here." Esposito's voice traveled back up the path to meet him on at the trail-head. He jogged down the winding path to the break in the trees where Esposito was standing. He came to a stop and surveyed the scene before him. Castle sat in the bright sunshine on the edge of a rock overlooking the hillside. He estimated an approximate drop of sixty feet from the edge of the boulder to the hillside below. He now knew why Espo had waited. They had both been there for Castle after the first Buchanan fallout. They understood. He was in every sense of the word, their brother. Espo knew he needed not to shock or startle him. A reaction and subsequent jump in the wrong direction could be disastrous and it was very likely that Rick didn't even know where he was. Espo put his finger to his lips to keep Ryan quiet. Ryan nodded and whispered, "I thought these were over."

Espo shook his head and quietly said, "He was hyperventilating when I got down here, but he seems to have gotten that under control."

Ryan looked around the area to get the lay of it. "What's your play?"

Esposito drew a long deep breath. "I don't know yet." He shook his head. "I think I'd like to wait it out a bit."

"Yeah, but,"

"The captain, I know."

"Javi, if she comes down here and sees him like this, she'll kick him to the curb, for sure."

"Yeah, I know."

"Beckett called and asked where we were."

Esposito dragged a hand through his hair. "How the hell did they break custody?"

"I don't know, but," he gestured toward their friend, "I'm going to do everything I can to put them away."

They turned to the rustling of pine straw and saw Kate scrambling down the path to them. She ran a hand through her hair as she gathered it into a ponytail. She wordlessly asked where he was. Esposito pointed to the rock. She started to walk in that direction when Ryan caught her arm. "Kate, we've got this. Be waiting here. He'll need the support."

Esposito motioned for Ryan to follow. Castle had started to show signs of coming out of his stupor. They both had vivid memories of helping their friend through this before.

He took a deep breath. His whole body shuddered on the exhale. He blinked in the bright sunshine. God it was beautiful; the sun, the mountains, the view.

"Hey bro," Javi said quietly as he inched his way toward him.

Ryan hopped up on the boulder and circled around the area closest to the hillside. "Hey Castle, everything's going to be just fine." Kate watched as their partners inched their way toward him. They were careful not to move too quickly.

Rick turned his head in the direction of Ryan's soothing murmurings and blinked. Ryan caught Esposito's eye and shook his head.

Castle closed his eyes again and gulped in the clear air greedily. When he opened his eyes, they were focused and looking at Ryan. He tilted his head to see Espo and Beckett. He made a panoramic sweep of his head, took in his surroundings, and felt the all too familiar clamminess feeling of his skin.

He ran a hand up over his face and through his hair. "Aw, crap. I thought I was done with these."

Espo chuckled. They had him back. "Hey bro, welcome back." He offered his hand to help Castle up and away from the edge. He gratefully accepted.

Ryan came up behind him. Sometimes in addition to being disoriented, Castle had been unsteady on his feet after an attack.

"Hey Ryan, nice rock, huh?"

"Yeah, now let's get off of it." They led him down the boulder and back to the trail. They delivered him to Kate's waiting arms.

"Thanks guys," he said to his retreating friends. He looked sheepishly at her, "Oh God, Kate, I'm really sorry."

She held up her fingers to his lips in an effort to still his apologies. "Did you do this purposefully?"

He scowled and said, "No, of course not."

"Then you have nothing to apologize for," she said as she pulled him into an embrace.

He jerked away abruptly. "What about Gates? Oh, jeez, how long have we been here?" He really looked around. "Where the hell are we?"

"You don't remember asking John to find a rest stop?" He shook his head. She tentatively continued, "What was the last thing you remember?"

He thought as he laced his fingers through hers and led her up the trail. "Um, back of the limo," he smiled, "you were snoring, cute adorable Beckett snores."

She rolled her eyes, "And?" She knew that he would be better off, in the long run, the more he could force himself to remember of the blackout periods.

"Um, Gates took a phone call, oh." His breathing picked up again. She squeezed his hand.

"I'm right here with you. You've got this." Her voice mesmerized him. It was soft and soothing like velvet on his skin. His breathing evened out.

"Thanks."

"I did nothing. You faced it and won."

He looked dubious. "Uh huh. I, um, feel like I need a shower," he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, "and a toothbrush. God, I really thought this was done."

She squeezed his hand again just before letting it go. She handed him the men's room key and he went inside to clean up a bit. She waited and took both their keys back while he went over to the limo. He opened the door for her and helped her climb in before he got back in and seated.

"I'm really sorry about the delay, Captain Gates, guys," he said to the floor. He knocked on the glass divider and the SUV moved back onto the highway.

"Mr. Castle, Detectives Ryan, and Esposito tell me you are ill. I see nothing to apologize for."

He glanced at the boys and thanked them silently. He leaned his head against the cool window and shut his eyes.

They arrived at their hotel and checked in. They debated about whether to stay in the area or to head back to the city. The captain decided, after another glance in Castle's direction, that they could be of use to Sheriff Callis and his task force. After delivering their bags to their rooms, and with Castle showered and changed, they headed to Kingston to meet with the sheriff.


	2. Building Theory

_**A/N - Thanks for all of you who have followed, favorited and reviewed. Your interest in and desire for me to continue The Castle Wall is inspiring. Thank you all for your confidence. I hope I will live up to your expectations. :-) Please enjoy!**_

_**~GeekMom**_

* * *

**Breaching the Castle**

**Chapter 2**

**Building Theory**

Their black SUV pulled up in front of the sheriff's office in Kingston, New York. Castle glanced out the window, a habit he had picked up long ago. It was good to be aware of what or who you might face when you emerged from behind the tinted glass. There was a small contingency of reporters loitering on the sidewalk. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Kate reached for the door handle.

"Beckett," he said sharply and indicated the waiting camera wielding vultures outside the vehicle. "Let me go first, they'll be preoccupied with me and the rest of you can slip by and into Sheriff Callis' office."

"I think that's a good idea, Mr. Castle." Captain Gates spoke up.

Castle nodded and prepared himself for the press. Although Beckett and the boys had all been to book parties and events previously, they had never been with him just before he faced the public. He flipped a mirror down from the ceiling. Beckett hadn't even noticed it was there until now. He checked his hair and his teeth, folded the mirror back to its original position and then closed his eyes. He breathed deeply and rolled his neck and shoulders. Kate realized he was getting into character, just like an actor. When he opened his eyes, all of the weight of the last six months was curiously absent. They had just watched him transform from Rick, their friend, into Richard Castle: author and playboy who didn't have a care in the world.

He smiled his million dollar smile as he leaned forward. "Wish me luck," he said to the ladies. Even the quality of his voice was different, deeper, and Beckett thought, sexier. He turned to Ryan and Esposito, "Boys, give them a couple of minutes of questions and then go inside. If I do this right, they won't notice you." He held his birds out for feeding which his friends did.

He knocked on the dividing window and John immediately jumped out and opened the back door. He climbed out and at Castle's gesture, John closed the door again. He led the reporters to the steps and turned around. He had positioned himself so they wouldn't see the other occupants exit the SUV. The remaining passengers watched as he effortlessly fielded the questions from the reporters.

Esposito broke the silence in the vehicle. "Can I just say, wow?"

Ryan said, "I know, right?"

"Are you fangirls finished?" Beckett asked her team.

"Come on Beckett that was impressive," Ryan gushed. "I mean, I know that his public persona is not who he truly is, but I didn't think he put it on like he was changing his sweater."

"You have to admit that it was quite fascinating, detective, not to mention gracious." Kate acknowledged her captain with a small nod and slight smile.

"I think we can go inside now." Beckett said, surveying the scene outside their SUV bubble. "The sooner we get started, the sooner we can put this all behind us." She rallied for her co-workers, but her eyes and thoughts were on Castle.

Esposito opened the back door, hopped out, and held it for the captain, Beckett and Ryan. All four walked directly into the sheriff's office without a single glance their way from the previously mentioned vultures.

Gates walked straight toward the deputy behind the reception desk. "Good afternoon. I'm Captain Gates, NYPD," she said flashing her badge. "We're here to see…"

"Yeah, Sheriff Callis, yeah," The deputy stood and held out his hand. "I'm Wilson, Mark Wilson. You need anything at all, ma'am, just let me know."

"Thank you, deputy. Where is Sheriff Callis?" She asked, looking down the hallway toward the offices.

"He's on a phone call to the Governor. Should be done at any time now."

With that, Callis came out of a door on the left hand side of the corridor. "Captain Gates?" He said extending his hand, "I'm Kevin Callis; It's good to finally meet you in person." A tall, thin man followed him out of the room. "Oh, and this is my deputy, Doug Houser."

"And of course you know my detectives." They all exchanged pleasantries. The detectives had been working closely with the sheriff's department on the Buchanan case.

Esposito fist bumped Houser and asked, "Yo, what the hell happened?"

"Oh man, Espo, I wish I knew. They were being transported to holding at the courthouse when the prison van was hijacked."

"Hijacked?" Ryan asked, stunned. "How the hell do you pull that off? Weren't there armed guards?"

"Yeah," Houser exclaimed, "yeah there were." He continued solemnly. "Shot and killed, both of them."

"Because this is multi-jurisdictional, the state police will be leading the man-hunt and investigation." Callis added. "Detective Beckett," he said turning to face Kate, "given your status in this case, your assistance won't be necessary."

"The hell it won't." They all turned to Castle who had just entered the door. "Callis, there's no way Beckett and I are not on this."

"Rick," Callis shook his hand and gripped his upper arm. "Normally, I'd agree with you, but like I was saying before you came in, it's not my party. Hell, I don't think I'm even the D. J."

Castle waved a hello to Wilson and gripped Houser's hand. "Doug."

"Rick," Houser replied. "The sheriff's right, we've been told numerous times that the two of you would put the operation in jeopardy."

"Sheriff, who is the trooper in charge?" Gates asked.

Callis ran his hand through his hair, "That'd be Lieutenant Erika Larson. She should be back from her meeting with the District Attorney soon. You've all met Bruce Singleton, but Captain you haven't had the pleasure yet."

"What aren't you telling me Sheriff?"

Callis smiled. "Bruce is a good enough D.A., he's a little softer than I like. If it were up to me, there'd be none of this plea bargaining and such. You do the crime, well you know the rest. He didn't hold back on the charges in this case, so that's good."

"But…"

"But, we're still here. We're moving too slowly. Hell those boys could have crossed into Canada by now."

"What's the hold-up?" Ryan asked.

"Same old, same old. Red tape and posturing."

"Callis, I don't think I have to remind you of how much Beckett and I need this closed." Castle said subtly. Castle and Beckett had re-visited the tunnels on the Buchanan's farm when they were building the court case. It had only been a month since their abduction and captivity. That was where and when Castle suffered his first panic attack. It actually brought Callis closer to the case. Castle and Beckett had become his friends, not just the victims.

"No, no you don't." He looked into the eyes of his friend and asked softly, "how are you doing?"

Castle smiled reassuringly, "I'm good, no problems," he lied, purposely omitting his attack earlier that day. "I'm wrapping up the latest book. It's all good."

Callis wasn't a slouch, or a backwoods country sheriff. He was a top notch investigator. He knew Rick was lying to him. He'd ask his friend again when they weren't in such a public venue. "Got a title yet?"

Castle smiled again, his eyes twinkling with amusement, a shared joke. "Funny you should ask. I have a friend who suggested 'Caged Heat'. My publisher loves it." He clapped the sheriff on the shoulder.

Callis narrowed his eyes. "Do I get some kind of credit for that?"

Castle didn't get the opportunity to answer as the door opened to an entourage of state troopers, men and women in suits, and plain clothed cops. A slender woman about Kate's height with shoulder length dirty blonde hair who was dressed in a dark gray business suit stepped out of the middle of the group and addressed Callis. "Sheriff, we'll need a conference room."

Callis cleared his throat and said, "Lieutenant Erika Larson, I'd like to introduce you to Captain Gates, Detectives Ryan and Esposito," indicating the boys, "Detective Beckett and Richard Castle from the twelfth precinct NYPD."

Larson shook everyone's hands in turn. She got to Beckett and Castle, shook their hands and asked, "Why are you here?"

The writer and his muse were taken aback by her directness to say the least. Captain Gates stepped in. "Lieutenant Larson, Detective Beckett and Mr. Castle originally were here as witnesses in the case and given the new developments, my people and I are here to lend assistance."

Larson eyed the captain; sizing her up. "That's fine captain, I'll take your help, but not from these two." She pointed at Beckett and Castle.

"I absolutely have to object to your unqualified dismissal of these two and ask that you reconsider," Gates said. Impressed, Castle remained silent as Gates took up the argument for them. "Mr. Castle has proven himself invaluable in investigations and Detective Beckett has the highest closure rate in the precinct."

"They are the victims in this case," she said dispassionately.

"So no one here has a greater stake in the outcome." Kate pled.

"Detective Beckett, while I can understand and empathize with your desire to help, I simply cannot put your lives or the lives of any other officer in danger."

"The Buchanans will attack anyone who comes after them. It won't matter if Beckett or I are there or not. Lieutenant," Castle said, shaking his head, "no one knows Joe Buchanan like I do. Please let us work it." He appealed, putting forth his most sincere, most charming self.

Erika Larson took a deep breath to consider the request before her. They were the victims, for crying out loud. Normally, there would be no circumstances, save a leave from her faculties, in which she would allow victims to work their own case. She looked back and forth from Beckett to Castle. Both looked determined, confident, but damaged. Damaged specifically by this case. She had read all of the case history. Based on that, it had been easy to categorically deny their assistance, now as they stood before her, it was more difficult. She considered them. The detective had an eagerness about her. It wasn't a personal vendetta; it was a true desire to see justice done. Richard Castle on the other hand, while exhibiting a sincere desire to help, was also holding something back. Larson had, among other talents, an uncanny ability to read people, even people she had just met, even people presenting a false façade. Her academy class called her the psychic, to her dismay. She came to a decision.

"Alright," she began and noted that Castle gave Beckett's hand a small squeeze. "But there is a caveat. You two don't work by yourselves. In effect, you'll have a protective detail with you at all times. The first time you disregard this edict is the last time you'll work this. Do we have an understanding?"

Castle and Beckett grinned at each other, "yes," they said simultaneously. Espo and Ryan fist bumped.

Esposito stepped forward and said, "Uh, excuse me, ma'am, I'm Detective Esposito. Beckett and Castle are on our team." He indicated Ryan and himself. "We'll gladly provide protection for them."

Larson eyed the group. She had read of their extraordinary case closure rates. She had done her research on everybody associated with the Buchanan case. "Fine," she said tight lipped and turned toward the conference room to prepare for her briefing. She sighed to herself. This case was turning out to be more about politics and less about police work.

* * *

The team followed the rest of the assembled government and law enforcement officials into the small conference room for the briefing. Larson welcomed everyone and introduced herself, her team and Sheriff Callis. She nodded and as the lights dimmed, a presentation was projected onto the wall behind her. The correctional department photos of Liam and Joe Buchanan caught Castle off guard. Kate, who was holding his hand under the table, noticed his reaction and the increased tension in his grip, but it was indiscernible to the others.

"Liam Wendell Buchanan, thirty, wanted as a fugitive from justice. Joseph Clark Buchanan, twenty-four, wanted as a fugitive from justice. Both men escaped custody as they were transported from Shawangunk Correctional Facility to Ulster County Courthouse to stand trial in the kidnapping and unlawful detention of Katherine Beckett and Richard Castle. I won't go into the case and charges they were facing, you all have a copy of the sheriff's arrest report as well as current pictures of the fugitives. At approximately ten fifteen this morning the van carrying the prisoners was forcibly stopped. Both transport guards were shot and killed." She paused as a photo of the crime scene was displayed. The shot showed a white fifteen-passenger van, rammed into a guardrail, on a secluded section of a highway. It was peppered with bullet holes, all of the doors ajar and blood pooled on the seats.

Castle raised his hand. "Yes, Mr. Castle," Larson said as she indicated him. All the heads in the room turned to look at him.

"How was the van stopped?"

"It appears that it was run off the road."

"By another vehicle?"

"There is no evidence to suggest that at this time. The people who ambushed the van may or may not have been on foot. They may or may not have gone with the Buchanan brothers. The simple fact is that there is little evidence at the scene."

Castle raised his hand again. Larson bit her lips. "Yes."

"What's in the area?" She actually tilted her head like a dog when it hears a high-pitched sound. "I mean, were armed men just hanging out on the highway all morning or did they drive there or where were they waiting for the van?"

"I, uh, I don't know."

Callis jumped into the conversation. "Rick, we were the first on the scene. There was no evidence of a second vehicle." Castle shook his head and scowled. "What?"

"Why did the guard lose control? These are trained men. I mean, they're not supposed to be reactionary, right? There had to be something to make him lose control of the van. Something big."

"Are there any traffic cameras?" Ryan asked.

Houser shook his head and chuckled. "Kev, it's a mountain road, not Manhattan." Ryan pursed his lips.

Beckett, who had been quietly thinking about the scene, asked, "Can you pull up a map of the area?"

"Better, I actually have a Google Earth shot." The tech said as she pulled up the satellite and surface photos. She recreated the van's route.

"There!" Esposito shouted and the tech froze the image. There was a logging camp entrance, not two hundred yards from the site of the extraction.

Larson felt like she was losing control of the briefing. She moved her arms in a halting motion. "If everybody will just be seated, please."

Callis, having worked with the team from the twelfth before and saw how they built theory together, interrupted her. "What's the theory?" He asked Castle.

Castle thought for a moment. His eyes became unfocused as he started weaving the story. "This was someone the brothers knew. Someone that probably visited or called them while they were incarcerated. They are loners, so maybe family or partners in previous unknown crimes. They work at the logging camp or have access."

"It's someone who has a commercial driver's license, someone who could have used a truck to run the van off the road." Beckett added.

Esposito stood up excitedly. "Yeah, and it wouldn't have left any evidence, because I'm betting those trucks go in and out of there all day."

"Looks like we have some places to start." Callis stated.

"But," Larson protested, "There's no evidence to begin an investigation. You'll just be spinning your wheels."

Gates raised her eyebrow. "You're right. We do not have evidence, but we do have a working, plausible theory. My people are brilliant at coming up with these. Now it's time to test it." Beckett put her hand on Castle's shoulder and squeezed in a shared appreciation of Gate's unexpected praise of her team.

Castle raised his hand again and the room became quiet as Larson, who was not used to having the spotlight on someone else, acknowledged him, but distastefully.

Castle noticed her attitude, as did the rest of the room. "Just one more, um, where was the additional guard seated?"

Larson nodded and her assistant put up another picture of the crime scene. This one showed the positions of the bodies of the dead guards. The driver was slumped over the steering wheel, but the additional guard was outside of the van, on the driver's side, by the rear tire. "Regulations state that the additional guard should be seated behind the prisoners in the rear of the van. He must have exited when the driver was killed."

"I'm sorry, but are there any more photos of the van? Or of the scene?"

"Castle, why do you want to know?"

"Bear with me Beckett."

"Um yes, sir," said Larson's assistant. "There are three others of the van." She changed the slides as she spoke. "Driver's side, rear and passenger side."

"There, stop right there." He jumped out of his seat to examine the photo closer. "There's blood on the rear seat," he tilted his head, "and a lot of it." He spun around to face Larson. "Was the second guard shot inside the van?"

Larson came over to the projected image. "No, it didn't appear that way."

"Mr. Castle," Gates said. "What are you getting at?"

"And here," he pointed to the guardrail which had a smear of dark blood. "This looks like someone was hauled over this. One of them was injured."


	3. On the Edge

_**A/N - Don't you hate it when an author starts their notes with an apology for being late? Yeah, me too. We all know that life can get in the way, but that being said, I am truly sorry this is later than I wanted to update. I actually moved this past week and was prepping for the move before that. Anyway, I'm happy to see a following beginning to coalesce. **_

_**As always, I thank those of you who read and for those of you who review - you're awesome! Shout outs to the readers who make my days! hfce, Garrae, Chkgun93, momandwife33, TORONTOSUN, southerngirl1, ebfiddler and Purple Satin.**_

_** If you've never reviewed before, try it. It's fun and I find it's rewarding to know how you reacted to my creation. I answer all of my reviews, so if you'd like some witty repartee in return, I'll ask someone else to answer.**_

_**One last thing - Let's have a great big WOOT! The Castle Wall has been nominated for a Castle Fan Fiction Award: Best Fic, Multi-chapter by a new writer, rated T. This fandom is unbelievable and this community is incredible! Thanks!**_

* * *

**Breaching The Castle**

**Chapter 3**

**On the Edge**

Lieutenant Erika Larson called for a ten-minute break. She excused herself and went to the ladies' room. She didn't need the facilities, just the isolation. She surveyed her flushed appearance in the mirror and thought, 'How did that just happen?' She shook her head. She was placed in command of this operation for her abilities and not for any other reason. Not because she was cute, nor that she had a long family history in law enforcement. She had the talent and the competency to complete the mission successfully. That's what she told herself as she stared into the mirror. How she felt was that someone had made a terrible mistake. A mistake in appointing her to lead this. All of the old insecurities and doubts surfaced the moment the writer had seen something she had missed. A writer! Not even a proper cop. She berated her own arrogance and sense of self-importance. This was the deep end and she was sinking fast.

But.

Erika had always been a good swimmer.

She continued to stare and her ego rallied as it always had. Who the hell did he think he was? Coming into her investigation and showing her up. He was nothing but a bully. He'd bullied his way onto the team and she had heard that's how he worked his way into the NYPD.

But.

That's not the initial read she got off of him.

Erika had researched and profiled both Castle and Beckett while studying the case file. Richard Edgar Castle a.k.a. Richard Alexander Rodgers, name changed legally in nineteen eighty-nine, age forty-four, relatives: father – unknown, mother - Martha Rodgers, daughter - Alexis Harper Castle, eighteen. Divorced, twice. Profession – author. Note - twenty -eight best-selling mystery novels; approximate liquid net worth – thirty-eight million, US. Real properties include Lower Manhattan loft apartment assessed value fourteen million, Southampton, New York, twenty-three thousand square foot residence two and one half acre lot value twenty-two million, and the list went on including a bar in Manhattan, a private complex on Bora Bora and she shook her head; a deed to property on the moon. Then there were the cars. Notes: commended three times for services rendered the City of New York. In addition, citations received from the FBI, DHS, and the CIA for acts of patriotism.

Katherine Houghton Beckett, age thirty-four, Relatives, father - James Beckett, mother – Johanna Beckett (Deceased). Single. Profession – Detective, homicide, twelfth precinct, NYPD. Net liquid worth, less than ten thousand. Property – Lower Manhattan apartment assessed value two million, a red flag on a cop's salary, but purchased with inheritance. Youngest female promoted to the rank of detective in NYPD history. Commendations from the police commissioner, mayor of New York City and the Governor's office. She also had received citations from the same federal agencies that Castle did. Erika pondered that. It made sense that they had received the same honors as partners.

Erika had yet to read the Nikki Heat novels but she had read the articles disclosing the arrangement between Castle and Beckett. She had the distinct impression that there was something more there. Something that just didn't sit right. She would continue to profile the two victims to get the true read on them. In the meanwhile, she told herself as she continued her staring contest with the one who knew her best; she would regain command even if she had to hurt some feelings.

Her musings were interrupted by the door opening to reveal Detective Beckett. She watched her as she entered. Beckett hesitated and then purposefully strode to the row of sinks and Erika. "Lieutenant Larson" Erika acknowledged her with a nod to her mirror image. "I, um," the woman's eyes darted downward for a second but then came back up to confidently meet Erika's. Beckett continued, "I want to thank you for your confidence in me and Castle. In your position, I probably would have hesitated at having us on this team also. I also want to apologize,"

Erika turned to face her. "For what?" She asked, feigning obliviousness.

"Well, it's just my team. I know we can be a little overwhelming to outsiders. We can get, uh, excited when building theory." Beckett's gaze was unwavering. Erika was just a little uncomfortable under the detective's scrutiny. Beckett seemed to sense the other woman's unease and smiled. "And Castle, well, he's never done anything by the book. I don't think he's ever read it," she tried a smile again, but either Larson had no sense of humor or didn't find it funny. She continued, "But his instincts are excellent and he is probably one of the most observant and insightful people I've ever met. He's not had our training but quite often he sees something we might have missed." She pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear and shyly smiled again. "He's very tenacious. He'll hang on even when everything appears to be hopeless." Erika noted that the detective was blushing. Blushing?

Erika realized that the woman was waiting for a reply. "Well, thank you, detective."

"Beckett." Larson raised her eyebrows so Kate explained. "Most of the people I work with call me Beckett," and she offered her another warm smile.

"Yes, thank you, um, Beckett. I'll keep what you said in mind." Erika turned back to the mirror, and ostentatiously began to wash her hands. Beckett pulled her lips in tight against her teeth, gave a small nod and headed to the stall. Erika watched the retreating back of the detective. The encounter with Beckett was thought-provoking and enlightening. Erika squared her shoulders and headed back out to the conference room.

* * *

The excitement in the room was palpable. The boys, defined as her boys and the sheriff's deputies, were busily making plans. Kate observed and listened, adding her opinion where she thought it necessary. Castle seemed quiet. Well maybe quiet for him. She noticed the Lieutenant leave the room, slightly red faced. She seemed pretty young to have been given this assignment, but who was Kate to judge. She knew nothing of Larson. Kate, herself had, in the past had to face questions about her worthiness due to her age, so she wasn't about to question any other officer based on age alone. She followed Larson to the rest room.

* * *

After a relatively short planning session, the team had assignments. Callis and his deputies would cover the prison to see who called or visited of the Buchanan brothers. Gates was to gather as much intel as she could from the surveillance put in place in the city. Ryan and Esposito, along with their Castle and Beckett babysitting duties, were assigned to track down any possible connection to the logging company. The contingent of troopers who were assigned to the case would follow the blood trail. Larson rejoined the company and appeared slightly annoyed that plans had been made in her absence, but she quickly recovered, assessed the assignments and signed on with the plan. She made eye contact with Beckett when she came back, but looked away quickly.

* * *

Castle sat at the back of the room, concentrating on his breathing, using a technique Burke had taught him. He was removed, not by anyone specifically, but by omission from the job he wanted to do and his lack of credentials. Tasks were decided upon, and delegated with little or no input from him, which was usual, but he had wanted to help. His need to bring in the brothers felt almost like an addiction or an obsession. He offered insights and theories. He was reminded that he wasn't law enforcement, yet again, and was asked to step back and he didn't like it. Didn't like it? No, it made him angry. He looked around the room. It occurred to him that he was searching for his anchor. Beckett had disappeared during the strategy session and had yet to reappear. Larson re-entered the conference room. He considered her as she was briefed on the plan and having given her approval, set everything in motion. Everything and everyone had assignments, mostly.

Kate came back to a bustle of activity. She scoped the room looking for Castle. She found him sitting on a high stool at the back. She didn't like the look on his face. "Hey," she said as she broke free of the throng. "I'd of thought you would be up there preparing for battle." She noticed he was bouncing his leg. He glanced at her but didn't say anything. Kate tried to look into his eyes, but he had already looked away. After that morning's occurrence, Beckett had been watching him closely. "What's wrong?"

She saw the muscles tense up in his jawline. He bit his lip, stood and steered her to the hallway. When they were out of earshot, he turned to her and said, "They've effectively shut us out, or more specifically, me."

"What?"

"Yeah, we're to go with Ryan and Espo to the logging camp."

"Okay, but that doesn't mean we're shut out."

"Kate, don't you see?" He paced. "They're keeping us away from actually going after Joe and Liam."

She thought for a moment and looked around the corridor. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into an empty office for privacy. "Babe, we can't chase after them," she said warily. "We are too close and for all we know, Joe still has..." She let the thought die unspoken. They both knew that Buchanan irrationally blamed Castle for his lot in life. "_I_ wouldn't have let us near this. We're lucky to be involved at all."

"Lucky? Beckett, is that what you call this?" his voice rose, "We are not allowed to pursue them. Who in God's name has more right to bring them down than us?" Each question tumbled out one after the other. He'd been stewing for a while. Beckett was in his direct line of fire. His frustration and anger were getting the better of him. He pulled his hands free of hers and stalked to the window. He stared out and quietly said, "I don't want to ever feel helpless again. I don't ever want to," he drew in a breath, "Kate, I couldn't get you out." He rubbed his eyes. He looked weary, shattered.

She quickly moved towards him. "Oh, oh, no, Castle, no. That wasn't your fault or your responsibility." She cupped his face and made him look at her. "No. I couldn't even get myself out. You were injured and drugged. No," she said again, shaking her head, "no, you've got it all wrong." They never talked about it. She had to Dr. Burke. It spilled out of her like water tumbling from a dam. She spoke of her feelings of inadequacy, of helplessness and fear. Of her despair when they took Castle and separated them. "Do… did you ever talk to Dr. Burke about this?"

He pursed his lips and made a face that made her think he had smelled something repugnant. "No," he said flatly.

This concerned her. "What do you talk about?"

"Kate, do we really have time for this now?"

She swallowed and rubbed down the cold chills on her arms raised by the chill in his voice. She needed a minute, to process. If he didn't discuss something so basic as his feelings of helplessness with Burke, what did they talk about, or did they talk at all?

"Look, I'll be fine. I just need to do something. I need to…" He slowly shook his head and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips ending with pinching the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. She had seen him do that a lot today. "I guess going with the boys is the best we're going to get, so let's do it." He started to walk toward the corridor when she grabbed his hand again and pulled him back. "Kate," he began, but she kissed him and shut him up. He kissed her back until her phone rang a few seconds later. He pulled away and sighed.

She answered, "Beckett. Okay, we'll meet you out front." She looked up to see him rearranging his face from fearful and angry to relaxed but determined.

"Shall we go detective?" He opened the office door for her and she stepped through, distractedly. She watched him walk past her, confidently down the hall to meet Ryan and Espo. He greeted them with fist bumps, as if nothing was wrong. It was just as Ryan had said, he 'put it on like he was changing his sweater'. He turned to her as if their exchange had never happened and asked, "Coming, detective?"

* * *

The entire ride to the logging camp Beckett stole furtive glances at Castle. For the most part, he kept his eyes outside the window of the cruiser. Sheriff Callis had loaned the unmarked car to Esposito in an effort to keep Castle's driver out of harm's way. Castle agreed with the sheriff and had generously tipped John and asked him to go wait back at the hotel.

It was just the four of them; she reached over and held his hand atop his fidgety leg. Esposito caught the mood from the backseat and kept glancing in the mirror, trying to catch Beckett's eye, but she was continuously observing Castle. "Yo, bro, you okay?" Espo said to the mirror. Ryan turned to look over his shoulder.

Kate squeezed Castle's hand. His attention was slowly drawn from the passing scenery to her hand and eventually up to her face. She wasn't comforted by his gaze. For a split second, he looked like he had never seen her before. She smiled reassuringly and nodded toward Espo. He swallowed uncomfortably and brought his gaze to the rearview mirror, briefly glancing at Ryan, who had never had a poker face.

"Sorry, Sito, my mind was someplace else," he explained, blinking. "What did you say?"

"It's cool, bro. You look a little sick. Just making sure you're cool."

Castle chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, I'm good. Must be the back seat."

"Dude, don't spew in Dougie's car."

"Yeah, I think Miss Manners says that's rude." Ryan piped in.

Kate watched the interaction. She had concerns. Based on the way the boys were acting and reacting, so did they.

* * *

At first they carried him. Their muscles screamed in protest as they hauled the dead weight of his body along the footpath. When they reached the stream, Liam began to question the depth of his friendship with Clint. Clinton Russell had gone to high school and graduated with the brothers. Had committed petty crimes and graduated to felonies with them. Clint had been there for them. He helped break them out. He shot the driver. He was a great friend, a comrade, a brother. Then he got himself shot in the leg. Liam killed the son of a bitch that did it, but Clint had already gone down. He killed him with the driver's gun. Clint was a friend a guy could count on. Liam wasn't.

He dropped his end of Clint on the bank of the creek. He sat down heavily and then leaned forward to drink some of the clear mountain water. Joe laid Clint's shoulders down gently and after checking his pulse, joined Liam at the side of the water.

"We'd make better time if we didn't have to carry him." He indicated the pile of Clint, behind them. He spoke as if their friend was nothing but soiled laundry.

"What are you saying Liam?"

"I'm just saying that we are the fugitives and not only are we making the most pathetic, slow-motion escape in history, but we're leaving a trail. Those dogs will be on us, because of his blood."

Joe was shocked. "We can't just leave him, Liam. He did this. He got us out. No, we got to take him to the cabin."

"What if he dies before we get there?" The question hit Joe colder than the icy water from the stream.

"He isn't going to die. It's a leg wound."

"Yeah, a leg wound that lost a lot of blood." Liam pulled on a thread hanging off his cuff of his correctional department cover-all.

Joe played with a clover in the grass. He didn't raise his eyes, but asked quietly, "What if it were me?"

"What?" Liam heard him, but asking him to repeat it gave him some time. What would he do? Joey had always been a good brother. He never questioned Liam. He had his back, but if it came right down to it and he had to choose between himself or his brother, Liam knew he would choose himself.

"What if it were me, Liam? What if I had been shot? Would you be conspiring with Clint to dump me someplace?"

Liam knew what the reality was, but he lied, "Of course not. You're my brother. We'd better get going," he said, changing the subject. He stood up and walked over to Clint, who had regained consciousness and judging from the unconcealed fear in his eyes, had heard the conversation. Liam regarded him dispassionately, didn't speak to him and picked up his shoulders.

* * *

Esposito and Beckett were in the foreman's tiny office. Seriously, the office could hold a desk that was strewn with bills, invoices and trash, a lateral file where a coffee pot burned the last of the morning's coffee, a visitor's chair that had several stains of unknown origin, and the desk chair that was currently leaned back straining against its contents. The contents were the foreman, Mr. Hugh Horton. Upon entering and finding the cramped conditions, Ryan and Castle opted to wait outside. Castle observed the operation of the base camp. Vehicles were always moving. Trucks, timber haulers, cranes came in and out. Some along the highway, some up the dirt road at the far end of the base parking lot. It was turning into a beautiful spring day. Castle bent down and picked up a smooth stone off of the decking.

"Jeez, Kev, what do you want to know?" Castle turned his attention to Ryan who had been observing Castle, but he was not as skilled as Beckett at keeping it unobtrusive.

Having been caught, Ryan turned his eyes to the decking beneath their feet. "I just wanted to," he began, but hesitated.

Castle prompted, shaking his head, "Just…wanted to…what? God, I wish you guys would stop treating me like I'm going to break. It's past." He chucked the stone across the parking lot.

"Not fair, Castle." Ryan lifted his head and shot back. Castle started to protest. "No, just wait a second," the younger man railed. "We were there, man. We saw what this did to you. We were there during the worst of it. You don't get to treat us like we don't deserve to know what's happening in your head." Castle thought the tirade was over and tried to answer, but Ryan continued. "Oh yeah, by the way? We were both there this morning. _This morning_, Castle. So, you're wrong. We're not talking about something that happened in the past. It's now."

"Finished?" Castle asked quietly.

"Probably not," answered Ryan.

Castle contritely asked. "For now?"

Ryan huffed and shook his head. "Jackass."

"Kev, look, I know everything you just said is true." He paused unsure of how to continue. Ryan was unequivocally right. They had been there for him. They had both shown their friendship. Probably more than he deserved. He was Beckett's partner and they were theirs, but this was deeper. While he and Beckett shared a romantic relationship, he and the boys were brothers. He would willingly place his life in either of their hands and he would sacrifice the world for either of them. Castle had never had that kind of relationship with anyone before, let alone men. He learned a while ago that most of the people, men or women, that sought his companionship, usually did so with ulterior motives. He could count the number of true friends he had on one hand. He'd sent one of them to prison a couple of years ago and buried another last year. "Since Gates got that phone call this morning, it's been harder than I thought it would be, but I've got to hold it together for a number of reasons. The first of which is on the other side of that door."

"I'm sure Javier would be touched."

Castle grimaced, "I need you to keep this between us, Kev."

"Don't you think Beckett would want to know if you're having a problem?"

"Not on this," he said vehemently. "No, I mean, yeah, she'd want to know, but she'd also nix my involvement here and I came up here with the intent to put them away. I mean to see that through, one way or the other."


	4. The Hunted

_**A/N - You guys are the best! Thanks for your patience as always. I am in your debt because I do this for fun and when you read and/or review, it makes me feel good, loved, appreciated. **_

_**Now if we could just get Castle feeling good again. :-\**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_**~GeekMom**_

* * *

**Breaching The Castle**

**Chapter 4**

**The Hunted**

* * *

After gearing up in attire more appropriate to a mountain trail than a corporate boardroom, Larson rode to the location of the prisoner's escape in the back of the cruiser of two troopers that she did not know personally. Bryan Andrews, a corporal, stole furtive glances in the rearview mirror. Erika hoped that his tracking expertise was better than his surveillance abilities and that Trooper Nicole Carr, his partner and the officer currently sitting in the passenger seat, was not as green as she appeared. Erika sighed.

"Ma'am? Is everything alright?" Corporal Andrews asked. The Lieutenant had a formidable reputation, and Bryan did not want to cross her. He exchanged a significant glance with his partner.

Ignoring his question, she asked, "What's the E.T.A.?"

His eyes met hers again via the mirror. "Twelve minutes."

Erika glanced at her watch. She would arrive after Justin. It was not the end of the world, but dammit, he was always beating her, arriving first, getting the collar. She sighed again.

* * *

"Jeez, how much information could the guy possibly have to go through in that tiny office?" Castle fidgeted while waiting for Beckett and Esposito. They were interviewing the logging camp's foreman, procuring information on his trucks' movements that morning. The theory was that someone who had the skills used a truck to run the prison van off the road. Whoever was driving the truck was complicit in the escape.

"It's only been twenty minutes, Castle," Ryan said. He had been quiet since his outburst, rolling Castle's answer around in his mind.

"I've got to move Ryan. I'm going to walk around the lot." He indicated the busy dirt and gravel road that the trucks and machinery utilized.

"Castle, I don't think that's a good idea." Ryan said, shaking his head.

He slapped the younger man on the back. "Of course it's a good idea." He grinned and strode off of the decking.

"Castle." Ryan called, but Castle had already started across the parking lot. He walked in and around the trucks and logging equipment. Ryan kept an eye on him from the relative safety of the deck.

Castle dodged the incredibly huge machinery that appeared to have no time or patience for pedestrians. He was debating his wisdom as he walked past a tractor, the crash cage bars in the front, which were black had telling white marks. He moved nearer to inspect it more closely. "It's from the van," he excitedly said to himself and then he spun and repeated it to Ryan, pointing to the marred finish. "It's from the van, Ryan!" He stepped away from the piece of machinery, cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Ryan, it's from the van!" The noise from the yard was just too overpowering for Ryan to hear. He cupped his hand behind his ear. Castle hurried back across the lot to Ryan.

Ryan kept a close eye on Castle who was coming back through the traffic minefield of a lot. It reminded Ryan of Castle's game Frogger. Ryan had played it at Remy's once and had failed miserably. A forestry tractor pulled out of its parking space and came up quickly behind the writer. Ryan waved his arms and yelled for Castle to move. The cacophony of the various machines drowned out any possibility of verbal communication. Kevin jumped the rail and ran toward Castle.

Castle was impressed as he watched Ryan jump the rail of the deck and come running toward him. He was yelling and waving his arms. Castle looked behind him just as everything intersected. Ryan tackled Castle from a full run. They both tumbled in between two parked trucks. The tractor didn't stop. Ryan rolled to a crouch and then took off running.

He had his phone out and he was calling Esposito. "Tractor tried to run down Castle. Heading for gate." Esposito burst through the foreman's office door just as Ryan ran past the deck. Beckett also ran out of the office followed by the roundish foreman who had closed the electronic access gate leading to the highway. Ryan reached the tractor as it was slowing for the gate. The driver stopped and within an instant, he was surrounded by three detectives.

"Hands where we can see them!"

"Step out of the vehicle!" The driver emerged with his hands over his head.

"Down on the ground! Lock your fingers behind your head!" He did as he was told. Esposito approached the driver, pulled his arms behind his back, and cuffed him. He stood him up.

Hugh Horton, the foreman, approached. "What in holy hell is going on?"

Ryan turned to the foreman. "Mr. Horton, who is this?"

"That's one of our drivers, Kenny Marsh."

"He just tried to run down Castle," Ryan explained, "Castle was examining this tractor and started shouting something from across the lumber yard. This asshole didn't even slow down."

"Ryan."

"There was too much noise."

"Ryan."

"I couldn't hear what he was yelling."

"Ryan, where is Castle, now?"

Kevin looked back toward the place where he tackled him. "Oh, oh, crap!" He started running. Kate went with him. He slowed to look between each set of parked vehicles. "Damn." He yelled when he found him.

Castle was just sitting up. He was dazed but conscious. "Kev?" He asked.

"Castle? Are you alright?" The guilt on Ryan's face was unmistakable as he assessed his friend's condition. Small lacerations on his cheek, forearms, and hands. Contusion on his left temple.

"Kate? What…"

"Oh god, Castle, I'm so sorry. The tractor was going to run you down." Ryan plead.

"Tractor?" He asked as Kate was checking him over for broken bones. Finding none, she helped him to his feet.

"Yeah, you found something on the tractor. The driver tried to run you down."

Castle looked at his friend, then around, finally remembering and comprehending what he was saying. "Oh, hey, thanks, Ryan." He rubbed his hands together, brushing off the dirt and gravel. He hissed at the stinging pain. He looked at Kate who was holding him up with his arm across her shoulders. "I'm good." He said as he extricated himself from her support. He took a couple of steps, in the wrong direction. She grabbed his hand and pulled him along with her.

Esposito had moved Marsh back up to the deck by the foreman's office and had called Callis. He was sending a team to follow-up with what they had found. Horton had disappeared into his office and came back with Marsh's personnel file.

"Well, detectives, this is Kenny Marsh, he's a driver and crane operator." Horton said, reading from the file, trying to be as helpful as possible. "He's not our most stellar employee, but he doesn't appear to have any prior safety violations."

Beckett stepped forward. "Mr. Marsh, I'm Detective Beckett. Why did you try to run down Mr. Castle?" Kate kept her voice as steady as possible, but she was screaming inside. Marsh appeared to be disinterested. She narrowed her eyes and then turned her attention to her partner. "Castle? What did you find?"

He looked like hell. He stepped down off the deck and walked toward the tractor, carefully avoiding the claw-like appendage used for tearing trees from their roots and the soil. Esposito walked with him. He pointed out the white paint on the crash cage bars. "Here. I can't imagine that this tractor runs into too much paint in the forest. I have a feeling that if it were tested, it would match the paint from the correctional department van." He climbed back onto the deck and leaned heavily against the rail.

"Marsh had this tractor signed out all day, since seven this morning." Horton supplied, pointing to a paper in his folder.

Beckett closed the short distance between them and got right in Marsh's face. "How do you know Joe and Liam Buchanan?" She was met with more silence, but Kate noticed the shift in his countenance: his insolent stance had wavered as his shoulders dropped and he lowered his gaze to the deck.

"I don't know what or who you're talking about, lady." He defiantly raised his eyes to hers.

Beckett stared at him with her most intimidating expression. It was the look that had brought down New York City's most contemptible offenders. "Really." It was not a question. "You see, I think when we pull the prison records we'll confirm that you had contact with the brothers, that you were integral in executing their escape." Marsh's resolve began to dissolve under the intensity of Beckett's scrutiny. It was a beautiful spring day, temperate: not cold and certainly not hot, but Marsh began sweating. Castle observed the miniscule, but significant signs that Beckett was skillfully exhuming from Marsh's composure. His breathing was quicker and shallower. Small beads of perspiration appeared across his forehead. The color of the Marsh's face transformed to a pallid greenish hue. He wryly thought it was looked like a hardware store paint chip shade called sea foam that was way too popular in the eighties. Maybe he was trying for its resurrection. Maybe he was just going to be sick. Either way, the man didn't stand a chance. Captain Montgomery had once remarked to Castle that Beckett was like a tiger in interrogation and that no one did it better.

She got closer to his face, a move that Castle did not think was possible, but there she was, literally breathing down the suspect's neck. "An escape by your pals, Liam and Joe, that left you…where? Here, by yourself. Why do you think they did that?" She did not wait for him to answer. "Left you here so they could escape…without you. Were you ever supposed to go with them? Did you consider that they left you here, to delay us? That you, Mr. Marsh, are a diversion and once your usefulness in the escape was over, they tossed you aside, like yesterday's leftovers. Have you realized yet that they made you responsible for the murders or two correctional department officers?"

His eyes were wide and he was on the verge of hyperventilating. "I…I'm, uh, their friend. They wouldn't, couldn't. We've been through…" He swayed on his spot. Castle smirked. There was a reason suspects were afforded the luxury of a chair when in the box with Beckett. He thought, 'Marsh couldn't piece together a coherent sentence now if his life depended on it. Oh, wait.'

He waited for her to take the kill shot.

"Mr. Marsh, you're going to rot in that same prison." The intensity of her voice increased, but she didn't yell. She kept tight control of her verbal assault. "The same one you helped them escape from and as soon as you had secured their freedom, they deserted you. Do you really think they'll come back for you?"

The racket of the lumberyard along with the forward progression of time seemed inaudible and stock still as the broken man desperately grasped at any possible straws. Beckett had removed them. All of them. He realized it and gathered his strength to accept that she was right. They did abandon him and they were going to let him take the fall. Castle held his breath, as did Esposito and Ryan. They had all witnessed the slow evolution from defiance to submission before. Beckett's capability and skill had no equals. She was seductive and dangerous. Like a tiger. Castle ran a hand over his face. They were out in the open but the tension was stifling. Beckett flexed her jaw muscles, but her eyes never left Marsh's.

"I can't lady, they'll kill me. You...you don't know."

"The hell we don't," Castle stepped forward, overlooking the etiquette of interrogation.

"Castle," Ryan grabbed his shoulder to hold him back but the writer shrugged out of his grip.

"You know who I am. Why else would you have tried to complete the job that Joe began? You know that he held both of us. You sorry son of a bitch," he said, incredulously shaking his head, "you still believe they're going to rescue you, and thank you for killing me off."

"Is that why you tried to run Mr. Castle down? Did you actually think they would be so grateful that they would accept you back?" Kate smiled and shook her head. "They're gone and they're not coming back for you," she said and then continued right next to his ear, "but know this, Mr. Marsh, we are bringing them back."

* * *

Gates sat behind a desk that was not hers, continuing to search and cross reference in a computer system with which she was not familiar. It had been a long time since she did the grunt work. Occasionally, she'd stepped into the field since becoming captain, but the type of searches she was conducting would have, in a department with more manpower, normally been assigned to a rookie. She was not complaining. She told Beckett that she would do everything to help bring these animals in and she would without hesitation. She only wished it were without the tedium.

Her concentration broke when Deputy Houser ushered a man in handcuffs through the front doors of the Ulster County Sheriff's office. "Toss me the keys, Mark." He caught them in the air and walked down the hallway with the man. They disappeared into the door, furthest from the front desk. She watched him go until her attention was brought back to the doors as her team entered. Ryan, holding an evidence bag and Esposito, followed by Beckett and Castle. Gates immediately noticed the blood on Castle's shirt. She stood and walked over to her people. "Detectives. Mr. Castle, what happened?"

Esposito pursed his lips. "Ryan tackled him," he said plainly.

"What?" She looked from Esposito to the writer to Ryan.

Ryan shrugged his shoulders and said, "He was asking for it captain."

Gates raised an eyebrow. She had observed this team long enough to know that humor and levity was one of the tools they used to cope with the seriousness of their work. They made an outstanding team and she was not about to mess around with whatever formula gave them the highest case closure statistics in the city.

"Castle was investigating what turned out to be evidence of a second vehicle involved in the hijacking. The man that Doug just brought in is Kenny Marsh. He is an active conspirator in the Buchanan's escape and after Castle discovered that, he attempted to hit him with the same vehicle." Beckett explained. "Ryan shoved Castle out of the way."

"I see. Mr. Castle, waiver or not, I don't want any of my people working impaired. Please get yourself checked out at the E.R. Detective Ryan, Mr. Castle is considerably larger than you are. You pack quite a wallop. Thank you. With all the press this thing is receiving, we don't need news of any more of his injuries to hit the front page."

"Captain, I'm touched," Castle said as he brushed aside an imaginary tear. When his fingers accidently scraped against the raw graze on his cheek, he winced and then grimaced. He sighed and said, "When I'm done at the E.R., I'll have John come and pick us all up. Callis said there was nothing more to do tonight on our end. The troopers have begun the tracking and are radioing their progress."

"Apparently, there was someone injured. They left a blood trail. They have dogs out there, now." Esposito added.

"Very well," stated Gates, "I think we could all use some good food and a decent night's rest. It's been quite a harrowing day."

* * *

Beckett accompanied Castle on the ride over to the hospital. He called John to pick him up there. They would swing by the sheriff's office after and get the rest of their crew.

They did not wait long until he was escorted to a curtained off exam area. Kate was helping him to achieve a modicum of modesty by tying the strings on the back of his less than modest hospital gown, when they heard a familiar voice. "Is my favorite writer turned cop turned patient back in my hospital?"

Castle smiled as best he could. The drab institutional green curtains parted to reveal Maggie, the nurse whom Castle had charmed and had been charmed by during his last stint at Benedictine Hospital. It was mutual admiration. "Maggie, it's good to see you again," he said genuinely happy to see her. "You remember Kate, uh, Detective Beckett? Um, Maggie, how did you know I was here?" He asked, uneasy about the press.

"Hello detective," she said to Kate before she continued the conversation with Castle. "I've got my ways, but I see you looking around, you're safe here." He grinned timidly to dispel his apprehension and then as broadly as he could without pain to show his appreciation. Maggie picked up his chart and looked it over. "What have you been doing to yourself now?" She shook her head and began taking his vitals.

Two hours later, Castle was released from the hospital emergency room against medical advice. He had numerous scrapes and lacerations that were cleaned and in a few instances, gravel removed, and one on his forearm that required stitches. He redressed in his torn and bloody clothes as a disapproving Beckett watched. She said she would not help him and she didn't, even as he lurched forward after losing his balance while pulling up his pants. She sighed audibly.

"I'm not staying." His tone was firm and tired. God, he was so tired of arguing this point. First the doctor, then Maggie and now Beckett.

"Castle, you have a concussion."

"It's a moderate concussion."

"Like that makes a difference."

He smirked, "It does. It means that if I only had a half a brain, like my mother insists, I'd be dangerous."

"You lost consciousness."

"Only for a second or two. Who knew Ryan could channel a linebacker?"

"Could you be serious, for one minute?"

He shook his head and decided against doing that again anytime soon. "Kate, I'm fine. You can come wake me up every hour tonight," he waggled his eyebrows, "if that would make _you_ feel better." He closed his eyes against her glare. Painkillers were the next item to accomplish on his to do list today. He mentally looked at his checklist. Discover evidence: check, almost die: check. He turned to his plastic bag of personal belongings and pulled out the hospital prescription bottle. He opened it and popped two of the pills into his mouth, followed by a long pull on the bottle of water on the table. She watched him the entire time, trying, unsuccessfully to catch him faltering. Not that she wanted him to hurt; she just wanted him to take care of himself. She did not blame him for not wanting to stay in the hospital; he'd had enough hospitals just a few months ago. She would check on him tonight, often.

"Stop thinking so loud, Beckett. You're making my head hurt."

She looked at him from under her lashes. "Your head wouldn't hurt so much, if you didn't have so much extra space in there." She walked past him and down the corridor toward the visitor's entrance.

His mouth was instantly dry as he watched her sidle past him, provocatively bumping him in the groin and swinging her hips as she walked away from him. He exhaled forcefully and followed.

John picked them up and in the time it took to drive back to the Sheriff's office, Castle had fallen asleep. She gently jostled his shoulder. "Rick." He roused, but not fully. She dug into the bag for the prescription. "May cause drowsiness," she read, "brilliant: give a prescription that causes drowsiness to someone who shouldn't fall asleep." She pursed her lips and chuckled. He would appreciate the irony. She looked at him as he slept: really surveyed the newest bumps and bruises on her boyfriend. She reached over and brushed his hair off of his forehead. He was leaning up against the glass of the window in the door and his mouth was open. She smiled as she wadded up her jacket so he could rest his head against it. She couldn't stay mad at him, no matter how hard she tried. The SUV stopped and John opened the back door for Captain Gates and the animated dynamic duo of Esposito and Ryan.

Gates noticed Castle first and immediately fell silent. Esposito climbed in and took his seat. Ryan said, "Beckett, Castle, the guy fessed up to conspiracy and attempted murder. He swears that…" his report was truncated as Espo smacked him on the back of the head, gesturing to their sleeping friend. Kate reached behind her and knocked on the window. Their chariot immediately pulled out onto the road.

Thirty minutes later, they pulled into the semi-circular drive of the inn. Castle hadn't woken even once. John opened the door and the boys and the captain climbed out, leaving Beckett to wake Castle.

"Rick." She smoothed his hair off of his face again and turned his face toward her. "Rick," she said it a little more loudly. She started to worry. She robustly shoved him and inadvertently smacked his nose against the window.

"Ow, what the hell?"

"Oh, Rick, I'm so sorry. You wouldn't wake up."

He frowned and gingerly rubbed the bridge of his nose. "How about speaking a little more loudly next time? How about not resorting to smacking the guy with the concussion about the head? God, Beckett, you are so violent." He smiled the lopsided smile. "We should take advantage of that upstairs." She ignored his suggestive advances. He took a deep breath. She climbed down and held a hand out for him, which he ignored.

"Captain, guys, sorry about passing out back there: pain meds. I'll be right back." He walked to John who was standing by the driver's door, said something to him, and pulled out his wallet and handed John some money. He returned to where his group was waiting. "Who's up for dinner? I understand the restaurant here is excellent." He clapped his hands together and ushered everyone inside. He stepped over to the maître d, spoke with him, and then returned. "I, uh, hate to be the party pooper, but, I'm beat." He looked at Ryan, raised an eyebrow and smiled, "Literally."

"Castle, you should eat," Beckett implored.

He sighed, but then smiled. "Beckett, I'm okay, just tired and not very hungry. I can always order up, if I change my mind." He turned his attention to the rest of the group. "Your table should be available in five minutes. Order whatever you would like. I've arranged to have them bill my room."

"But, Mr. Castle…"

"Thank you, sir, I'm fine. Enjoy yourselves please. Until tomorrow." He walked toward the stairs, looked back over his shoulder, and waved them goodnight.

He slept fitfully. Dreams and nightmares haunted his sleep: visions depicting Joe and Liam coming menacingly closer but never reaching him. He was meant to fear them forever. His eyes flew open as the phantasmagorias bearing the brothers' likenesses flew at him torqueing and twisting, distorted and ominous. He awoke in the dark, sweat mingled with the stench of blood and fear. Maybe it was the nightmare. Maybe it still was a nightmare. Maybe it was a sound of a distant animal falling prey to an unseen predator in the hills. Perhaps it was the overwhelming sense of dread and doom. Conceivably, it could be the animals that wanted to prey upon him. He drew a shuddered breath. He tried to make out the features of his room in the inky blackness. It was cold and damp. Whatever surface he was laid on was back breaking hard, and cold like the tile of the bathroom floor. He could not move or get up. His legs were numb and throbbing. He heard a noise: definite this time, the sound of a match striking on a matchbook. He craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the flame. All he saw was the shadows dancing in the glow. One shadow growing larger. Looming.


	5. I Think They're Winning

_**A/N - Hi Guys! Happy Castle Monday! This is the longest chapter I've written, so I'll keep my note short. (It's like two chapters in one ;-) )Thanks for everyone and for all you do to make this fun! **_

_**Castle FF Writers' Guild Award announcements are supposed to be today 5/5/14 at 1pm EDT. I'm so honored the The Castle Wall is among the two other nominees in my category. I admire and applaud the authors and their work. Good luck to all of us!**_

_**Enjoy**_

_**~GeekMom**_

* * *

**Breaching the Castle**

**Chapter 5**

**I Think They're Winning**

"You're late." There he was leaning against his cruiser, looking every inch like the Norwegian gods from which he was descended. The problem was that he knew it. Erika smoothed her hands down over her multi-pocketed cargo pants adjusted her Glock in her holster and greeted Justin.

She held out her hand. "I can't be late. I'm the one in charge…just like the queen, we work on my schedule."

Justin stepped forward, clasped her hand, and pulled her into an embrace. "Hey, little sister, how does it feel to have your very own op?"

She pushed him away. "Justin, there are troopers all over the place. If I want any other ops, we need to maintain professionalism, please. It's tough enough as it is."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, it's always been tough, I'm a girl, there's a glass ceiling," he whined, mockingly. "Ow." He rubbed the spot on his chest where she poked him.

"Come on, Lieutenant Larson, let's finish this."

"Right behind you, Lieutenant Larson."

She led the way to the assembled group of officers and troopers. She was feeling better about the mission, not that she wasn't confident before but Justin was here now and she knew he would have her back. He always had.

They walked through the midst of various officers and troopers from different agencies, jurisdictions, counties and the state. Erika saw people she knew, but mostly those she did not. The older cops eyed her warily. The younger cops were excited to be participating in a manhunt. She noted the cluster of troopers separated from the rest. They were the canine unit. There was a trail and they would lead the way. She navigated to the back of a pickup truck and climbed into the bed. She was handed a blow horn by Trooper Carr. Erika was still leery of bringing the young trooper into the rough country. The woman looked to be about eight-teen. Erika decided to keep her close. She would act as her exec.

"Good morning," she said into the amplifier. "My name is Lieutenant Larson. You have all been given the information about our quarry. Just one side note. Joseph and Liam Buchanan are not to be underestimated. They are to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. If you encounter them, then you assume they will kill you. You have all been assigned as a part of a team and team leaders have been selected. I, as well as your supervisors, expect full cooperation and respect regardless of the position you hold in your home agency. All communications with command at the sheriff's office will be on tact two. We are burning daylight, let's get to work, and bring in the Buchanan brothers before they cause any further harm. If you have specific questions about assignments, please see Trooper Carr." She pointed toward the trooper who raised her hand. Erika hopped down from the truck, checked her sidearm, collected her backpack and canteen, and then reported to her team.

* * *

Sheriff Kevin Callis walked into his observation room to observe the interrogation. He was joined by Captain Gates and Kevin Ryan. Detained in interrogation sat Kenny Marsh, looking defiant and not as broken as when Beckett was in his face. He seemed to have regained some confidence, now that she was gone. He stared passively, but directly in front of him. The door opened and Deputy Doug Houser and Detective Javi Esposito entered. Houser dropped a file on the table and took the seat directly in front of Marsh. Esposito sat beside him in the second's chair. It's the second interviewer's responsibility to maintain pressure, back-up the main interrogator and to assess the duress in the reactions. The position also has psychological aspects. Basic bullying one-oh-one: two against one. Esposito was a great interrogator; he looked mean and intimidating, but that's also what made him a successful second. He was comfortable in either seat. The whole reason for interrogation was to extract information. It could be either in the form of a confession or a sellout of a fellow offender. Let's make a deal: that's the game they were playing today. Marsh was the red shirt. Joey and Liam had thrown him in the round file as soon as he crashed the van. His usefulness was over. It was Houser's job to convince him that he was alone in the world and the Buchanan Brothers had left him with a giant bag of shit.

Marsh turned out to be a pushover. Twenty minutes into it and he had confessed to conspiracy in the Buchanan's escape from custody. He confirmed that he was instrumental in acquiring the vehicle that was large enough to run the department of corrections van off the road. It was Marsh's idea to crash the van. He also caved within minutes of being asked about Richard Castle. He told a twisted tale of Joe's reasoning behind his vendetta against the author. Joe had convinced him that he could not be totally free to do what he wanted, because Castle was personified evil and must be destroyed. Liam and Joe had been kind to him like a brother and he owed them a lot, but Marsh came to the conclusion that he did not owe them his life. For a reduction in the length of prison his sentence, Kenny Marsh gave the officers the only bits of information he had. The brothers were headed to a cabin somewhere in the county. Liam never trusted Kenny enough to give him the location. Liam had killed both prison guards. The last was the name of the fourth and final accomplice: Clint Russell.

"Clint was the extra muscle and was supposed to take out the driver, but he wrestled with his gun and it ended up that Liam killed them both. Clint got shot."

Callis searched the prison visitor logs he and Houser had obtained and sure enough, Marsh as well as Clint Russell visited Liam and Joe several times in the last few months. He concluded that it must be Russell's blood in the van and on the guardrail.

Houser passed Russell a piece of paper and a pen to write out his statement. When it was done and Kenny Marsh had been charged with attempted vehicular manslaughter and conspiracy. They returned him to his cell after processing. The detectives, fist bumped and then slapped Houser on the shoulder. They had good solid information. Esposito answered his persistently ringing phone.

Ryan smiled, "Never would have connected him if Castle didn't get bored and wander down in the lot.

"I radioed Larson with our information," Callis told the group. Mark approached and handed him a sheet of paper. Callis passed it to Gates. "That's Clinton Russell," he said indicating the print out.

"Hm. Another upstanding citizen," Gates said, wryly. Callis pursed his lips and nodded grimly.

"Yo, that was Beckett. They're on their way back here from the hospital."

"How is Mr. Castle," Gates asked.

"According to Beckett, scrapes and abrasions, only one needed stitches and he has a moderate concussion, because of which they wanted to keep him for observation overnight, but Castle refused and checked out against medical advice."

"Who can blame him? After all that time he spent in the hospital before." Ryan added.

"Yeah, well Beckett's pissed, which means worried. They'll be here in ten."

* * *

At the same time Marsh was selling out his co-conspirators, Clint Russell tried to make out the features of his room in the inky blackness. It was cold and damp. Whatever surface he was laid on was back breaking hard, and cold like the tile of the bathroom floor. He could not move or get up. His legs were numb and throbbing. He heard a noise: definite this time, the sound of a match striking on a matchbook. He craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the flame. All he saw was the shadows dancing in the glow. One shadow growing larger. Looming.

"Liam," he said. He had been expecting him.

"Clint, did you hear the dogs?"

"Yeah, I did."

"You know what that means." He didn't ask it as a question.

Clint's heartbeat kicked into high gear, but the only outward sign was his ragged breathing. "Liam, think about what we've done together, man I've always been there for you," he pled his case.

"We both appreciate it, but we can't go back and with you here, we might as well send up the fuckin' bat signal." Joe stepped out of the shadows.

"Oh, oh god, Joey? Come on, now. I thought we had each other's backs." Clint was panicking now. His ally had gone over.

"Clint, I love you like a brother, but, the fact is you're not my brother. Liam is. And brothers stick together and help each other. You know what we have to do, but you won't feel it. We agreed to knock you out..."

That was the last thing Clint Russell heard as Liam brought the rock down on his skull.

* * *

John pulled up to the sheriff's office to pick up the rest of Mr. Castle's party. This had been an interesting job, so far. John had had the good fortune to drive Mr. Castle previously on numerous occasions; some of them were extended trips lasting several days as this one was scheduled to be. The gentleman was always considerate and generous. Unlike many other celebrities who had treated him as if he were a second-class citizen, Mr. Castle always went out of his way to make sure John was accommodated on longer trips, which included paying for his meals, room and anything else he needed. He noticed that his employer was asleep when he opened the door for the other passengers. He'd make sure they had a smooth journey back to their hotel. When he reclaimed Mr. Castle and Detective Beckett from the hospital, he realized that Mr. Castle had been injured. Given that and the incident at the gas station earlier, John resolved to make him as comfortable as possible.

He smoothly pulled into the circular drive of the hotel and held the door for his passengers. He had not driven the two other men; the detectives, or the woman whom Mr. Castle had introduced as their captain, before, but he had driven Detective Beckett with Mr. Castle on several instances. She was as kind and magnanimous as he was. John had watched their relationship grow and change as the years went by, every time he was afforded the opportunity to drive them. She was good for him. He remembered the times when he would collect Mr. Castle and he had a different escort every time. Now, as it had been for the past several months, it was only Detective Beckett.

She was trying to wake him now. He moved to the front of the vehicle, allowing his charges their privacy.

"John," Castle said as he approached the driver.

John turned and observed him. He had cuts and scrapes and was moving a little slower than he normally would. "Yes sir."

Castle smiled. John was the epitome of what a good chauffeur should be. "I really appreciate all of the last minute changes and your flexibility." He pulled out his wallet.

John took in a breath. "Mr. Castle, you've already paid the service and tipped me very generously."

"Yeah?"

"Really, sir…"

Castle asked, "How's your daughter doing at NYU?"

John was surprised by the sudden change of topic, but immediately understood his employer's tactic. He shook his head. "She's doing great, sir. She loves her classes and is excelling."

Castle grinned. "Wonderful, and how's your son? Getting ready to graduate this year, right?"

John pursed his lips. It amazed him that the man remembered off hand details and remarks from past conversations. "Yes, Mr. Castle…"

"Didn't we discuss Rick before?"

John nodded. "We did, Mr. Castle."

Castle smiled and handed John the money. There was no condescension in the act, just generosity and thoughtfulness. "Get yourself some dinner, John, and thank you. I knew when I requested you for this trip; I'd be able to depend on you." He shook the man's hand and rejoined his guests.

* * *

Kate kept glancing at the staircase, which her boyfriend ascended earlier. She was worried about him. The boys noticed how distracted she was and she was sure Gates had also. Dinner was amazing, just as Castle had said it would be. The conversation was light, all of them doing their best not to work on the case outwardly, but that's all that was going through their minds. As a result, it was a quiet somewhat awkward dinner.

Captain Gates excused herself after they had finished and went up to her room. Beckett followed her with her eyes.

"Beckett, he's fine. He's probably sleeping by now." Ryan laid a hand on her arm in support and reassurance.

"Maybe playing a game on his phone or laptop," Esposito grinned.

She nodded. "What do you say boys, night cap?"

Ryan and Esposito agreed and they moved into the bar.

Esposito sat nursing his beer, spoke up. "So are we going to talk about this or not?"

Kate took a sip of her beer. "Talk about what...the case?" She asked, knowing full well that the case was not the topic Javi wanted to discuss.

"Beckett," he warned.

Ryan jumped in, not waiting for permission. "He was reckless today. He could have gotten himself killed."

"Yeah, and combine that with the panic attack from this morning," Esposito added, "and Kate, he needs to sit this out."

Ryan intervened, looking from partner to partner, "Well, we know he's not going to do that, but we do need to," he took a breath and pursed his lips.

Esposito finished, "Keep him on a tight leash."

Kate looked back and forth between them. She knew they were right, but Castle would never agree to it. She nodded her head. "I think you're right, I mean I know you're right. He lost it just before we left for the lumber yard."

"What do you mean?"

"He was angry. He kept on talking about how he was being shut out. How he needed to chase after the brothers, like he physically needs to bring them in himself." She looked at both of them. "Guys, I need you to keep this between us."

"Of course."

"You got it."

"He said he felt helpless and inadequate that he…" She lowered her gaze to the bar. "He said he felt like he let me down because he couldn't get me out."

"Back in the fall? At the farmhouse? Doesn't he see that it was impossible, given the state we found him in?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah, that makes no sense."

Kate shook her head, "he's not making much sense right now. Not normal Castle type sense. He also said something to me that led me to believe that he shouldn't have ended his therapy." She amended after viewing their questioning looks, "I'm not going into that. I just needed your take on his situation."

"We get it, Kate." Javi assured her.

"Yeah. But, you know today? At the lumberyard, before Castle went for his walk. He sort of went off on me, too."

"What do you mean bro?"

Ryan bit his lip, unsure of how much to share. Castle had asked him to keep it between the two of them. "Man he asked me not to say anything."

"Well, it's a tough call, but if you think he might put his own or someone else's life in danger, we need to know what we're dealing with." Esposito encouraged.

Ryan turned to Kate, "Beckett?"

"You're the only one who can make that decision." Kate shook her head having no idea what the content of their conversation was. She could have guessed as Javi could have also, but that also felt like a violation of Castle's trust.

"Yeah." Ryan thought about it for a moment. He weighed his feelings as a partner and a friend against his responsibilities as a partner and a friend. Kate and Javi watched the struggle play out on his face. "Okay," he said shaking his head, "but neither one of you says anything about this. I'm just telling you so that we are all on a level playing field. Got it?" Both of his partners nodded. Kevin turned his head to check the doorway. "He said he wished we would stop treating him like he was going to break, that his PTSD was in the past. I told him that he was wrong. He conceded that it's been harder to deal with the turn of events than he thought it would be and that he's holding it together for you."

"Me?" Kate placed a hand on her chest.

"Yeah, he's afraid you'll take him off the case."

"I really should, but no, I'm not going to. I appreciate where he's coming from." She ended with a small smile of acknowledgement. The boys knew too. Castle needed closure just as much as Beckett did with her mother's case. Unlike her mother's case however, he had been closer to ending his waking nightmare then she had ever been. They had the Buchanan's in custody, they were going to trial, and then it all came unraveled. She could understand and empathize with his frustration and feelings of helplessness and inadequacy. She could empathize but she really couldn't help him resolve them. Carter Burke could. She decided to place a call in the morning for advice. "In the meantime, just try not to take his temper and mood swings personally and be as proactive as possible."

"You got it." Ryan nodded his head, grateful to be relieved of the burden of keeping a potentially hazardous secret from his friends.

Esposito nodded as he stood and stretched. "Yeah, you know it, Beckett." He turned serious eyes on her. You let us know whatever you need, get it?" Ryan nodded his consent.

Kate nodded. "Got it." She stood and pushed in her stool. "Goodnight, guys. See you at breakfast." She hoped her last look at them conveyed the gratitude she felt in having such wonderful understanding partners. She hoped they understood it came from both her and Castle.

* * *

Kate stopped at her door and was about to slide the key card in the slot but she stopped. Thinking that she heard something, she listened. It was a cry or a moan. Her breath caught. It came from Castle's room. She anxiously ran to his door, fished out the extra key card he had sneakily slipped into her pocket right in front of Gates when they had checked in. He met her eyes with all of the mischief and amusement the blue troublemakers could contain. Like a kid sneaking his girlfriend into his parent's basement. Kate didn't think he had the type of day they'd had in mind when she accepted the secreted card. She was sure he had hoped to be celebrating.

She entered his darkened room quietly. It was cool. Cooler than she felt was comfortable. She made her way to his bed and found the source of the noise that alerted her in the first place. Castle appeared to be in the throes of a nightmare. She caressed his forehead with her hand, trying to sooth and comfort. She was dismayed and concerned when she found he was drenched in sweat. Apparently, from the state of the tangled sheets, he had been restless for a while. She crossed to the bath and grabbed a cloth, soaked it in cool water, left the light on so she could see and sat next to him on his bed. Kate wiped the cloth across his forehead and quietly called, "Castle, babe wake up, please." She jostled him gently. "Rick, come on, please open your eyes." She felt him stir under her touch. He swallowed and narrowly opened his eyes.

He shivered. "Kate? What's wrong?"

"You were having a nightmare."

"Nightmare? Oh, yeah," he said as he recalled the vividness of his dream. "Why is it so cold in here?"

"Mm, you're soaked and I think the air is on."

"Soaked," he repeated. He shivered and winced as his cold muscles betrayed his soreness. He stood up and crossed to the closet and then to the bathroom to clean up.

Kate got up at the same time and adjusted the thermostat. "You should change or you'll catch your death."

He called callously from the bathroom, "Ha, funny. The cold will have to get in line," emphasizing her faux pas.

She looked down and quietly said, "No, no it wasn't funny." She started to strip his bed of the sheets.

"Kate." He was behind her. "I'm sorry. That was unfeeling and stupid." He gathered her in his arms and she let him. He turned her around so that she was facing him. "I really am sorry." He searched her eyes in the dim light and smirked. "I guess sometimes I can still be a jackass."

She smacked his bare chest. "I thought you were going to change."

He looked amused. "You mean my being a jackass?"

"Castle."

"Oh, my clothes, I did…well I started." He looked directly into her eyes. "I took off my tee shirt," he said slowly and quietly, barely a whisper into her ear. He brushed his lips across hers. She caught her breath. "I also took off my pajama pants." He planted a kiss on her collarbone. She tipped her head back to give him more access.

"Castle…" she murmured and got lost in his kisses.

After they made love and rested in each other's arms, Kate rose and started getting dressed.

"Kate?"

"I should go back to my own room Castle." He was quiet. She slipped into her jeans and knelt back on the bed, caressing his jawline. "Kind of like we've broken curfew." She giggled, guiltily.

His eye sparkled wickedly. "I know, right? It's fairly exciting." She could hear the smile in his thrilled voice more clearly than she could see it in the near darkness. "But, could you stay a few more hours?"

"Come on, let's be smart about this. Gates is being…"

"Unusually kind? Understanding? Sympathetic?"

"Castle."

"Concerned? Feeling? Sensitive?"

"Oh my god, got it out of your system?"

He grabbed her and kissed her again. "I'll deny any knowledge. See? Beckett? Why are you in my room? Are you here to conduct an in depth interrogation?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Are you going to take advantage of me? Do I need to call a chaperone? "

"You're impossible." She leaned back over and kissed him. "Good night, Castle." She stood and he swatted her rear. She turned around, shocked.

He propped himself up on his elbow and shook his head. "You needed to be punished, Beckett, for breaking your curfew."

Kate sighed and started walking away only to turn suddenly, grab a pillow and smack him in the head. She ran for the door, giggling, retreating to the safety of her room.

Castle sat up, still smiling, but slightly dizzy. He thought that maybe their lovemaking followed by the pillow to the head, wasn't the best treatment for his concussion, but he also wasn't going to tell her. She already shouldered enough guilt about him, his injuries, and his situation. He was in the bathroom when the dizziness overtook him, he fell to the cold tiled floor. He slept fitfully. Dreams and nightmares haunted his sleep: visions depicting Joe and Liam coming menacingly closer but never reaching him.

* * *

They had been in the woods for nearly fifteen hours. Their company had made camp after sundown, having made a considerable distance on the trail and resumed the search a little after sun up. The dogs followed the blood. Erika could not believe how lucky they were. The brothers had practically sent an engraved invitation to their whereabouts by way of the blood. Even the smallest amount could be detected by the dogs. The trail had double backed several times; she supposed they thought they were being clever.

"Hey sis." Justin ambled up to her. She was studying her phone. "What cha looking at?"

"Got a radio message from Callis. They apprehended a co-conspirator, uh, Kenny Marsh. He drove a forest tractor and crashed into the van. He sent his photo and rap sheet." She held her phone out for Justin to see Marsh's photo.

"He's a sweetheart."

"Yeah. He's confessed to," she squinted at the tiny font on her phone, "attempted vehicular manslaughter, and conspiracy."

"Who did he try to run down?"

"Um," she read the report. "Oh crap."

"Erika?" Her brother teased her, but he heard the concern in her voice.

She ran her hand through her hair. "I knew he would either be in or a danger. It was Richard Castle."

"Shit. I'm surprised you didn't boot him."

"Yeah, well I wanted to. I was persuaded." She pursed her lips.

He stepped in front of her to read her face. "Well, is he alright?"

"Yeah, Callis says he'll be fine. He also said that it was Castle who found the evidence that led to Marsh."

"Huh. I guess it's a good thing then."

"Yeah, I guess," she conceded. "Let's catch up. I hear the dogs."

* * *

The dogs went crazy. Baying and pulling on their leads. The handlers reported that they had something, something fresh. Erika acknowledged the fact over the radio and caught up with the canine unit. They had stopped outside of a cave. The commander was consulting with the special operations and weapons group captain.

Erika hiked up to the captain. "Micah? What do you have?"

"Not sure yet. Still assessing the situation, perimeters and I want to rule out the possibility of an ambush. I think we'll gas it and breach."

"Sounds like a plan. Radio and proceed."

"Got it." She watched the older man obey her orders feeling a surge of pride. Micah reminded her of her father.

The cave opening was small. They would have to enter one at a time. Not the ideal assault formation. Gas was the best choice. The canine unit silenced their dogs upon approach and now waited for the all clear. Erika wanted no losses, including the dogs.

She observed from the secondary assault line. Micah's men threw in the tear gas grenades, which were followed by four masked spec op troopers with assault rifles. Several uneasy silent seconds passed, but they seemed like hours to Erika until they heard the all clear calls. The four men jogged out, stripping off their gas masks. One man dropped to his knees outside of the cave and vomited. Erika was already on her way down the hill.

"Report," she snapped.

"Ma'am, there's a body."

* * *

Castle awoke with a start. "Oh, jeez…what the hell?" He rolled over on the floor, shivered, and sat up slowly. "Murtaugh, you and I are getting too old for this shit." He held his head in his hands for a few minutes and slowly got to his feet. He checked his reflection and shivered again. He splashed some water on his face, checked the time, and made a decision.

He walked through the darkened hotel to the gym. The indoor heated pool was set below ground level for privacy and was adorned with lush tropical plants. Hidden colored lights shone toward the ceiling at twenty-foot intervals, creating a festive atmosphere. He needed to burn off some of the anxious energy and swimming laps would do that. Maybe it would also clear his head and warm him up. Passing out on a bathroom floor was not the most conducive way to get a good night's sleep. He stripped off his robe and stepped into the pool. He surface dove and just swam at a relaxed pace under the water. He did not hear the pool door open or notice the interloper.

* * *

She could not sleep so she donned her bathing suit and wrapped herself up in the plush robe provided by the hotel. A swim in the heated pool should loosen up her muscles and help her to relax before they continued the investigation in the morning. The robe felt good, plush, and luxurious. Rick Castle was many things, but cheap was not one of them. She smiled as she thought about how annoying she found him in the beginning. How he just got under her skin and annoyed every one of her pores. She chuckled; it certainly was not like that now. She opened the door to the pool and heard the lapping of the water as it was disturbed by another occupant. She peered down into the pool to see if she recognized the man. 'Obviously a man,' she thought, 'and a well built, fit and tanned man at that. Nothing wrong with a little eye candy.'

The man in the pool broke the top of the water with a flip turn and swam laps on the surface. She raised her eyebrows. Apparently, he knew what he was doing. He rotated strokes beginning with a crawl to a butterfly, but he only did that stroke for one length: the rest of the types of strokes, he swam at least four lengths. He stopped and hung onto the edge of the pool for a half a minute before resuming with an elementary backstroke and then the breast. She was impressed. She was walking down the ramp to the deck surface when he stopped and floated on his back, apparently catching his breath. She was looking at the top of his head. He was still oblivious to her presence.

Castle floated on his back breathing deeply. He closed his eyes and relaxed, languidly flexing his arms and legs. He flipped onto his stomach and executed a surface dive.

He swam to the steps and surfaced right at the feet of, "Captain Gates?"

"Mr. Castle," she acknowledged him and tried to avert her eyes as he climbed out of the pool. He had excellent taste in his thousand dollar suits and custom-made button down shirts, but none of his clothing did his physique any justice. He walked past her in his dark blue jammers to his towel draped over the lounge chair on the deck. "I, uh, I didn't know you could swim. Well, I mean, I didn't know you could swim well. Well, I mean, it looks like you've been trained." She followed him.

He picked up the towel and dried off. "I swam in school. Kept it up," he said as he wrapped it low on his hips. He was relishing the obvious effect his body was having on the proper captain. He had never heard her stutter her words before now. He knew he should put on his robe, but it really was too much fun. He sat down on the chair, and opened his bottle of water. He tipped his head back and gulped the water. He spread his knees wide as he leaned back and the towel slipped off. There were water droplets running down his chest and abs, dripping off of him along with the testosterone he was oozing. She found that the shelving that held the folded towels had become very interesting. He put the empty bottle back down on the table and chuckled. He stood and wrapped the towel again and picked up his robe and shrugged into it.

"Is something funny, Mr. Castle?" Gates asked, grateful the man had covered himself.

"No, not really. I was just wondering what forces in the universe had to collide to bring us both to the pool in the middle of the night."

"Well, I, uh, I couldn't sleep. You?"

"I slept plenty earlier. My problem was that I woke and couldn't get back to sleep. I needed to work off some energy."

"You know, Mr. Castle. If you don't mind me saying, I'm seeing you in a whole new light."

He raised his eyebrows and brushed his hair off of his forehead. "Captain, what do you mean?"

"I mean, I've never really spent much time around you, outside of the precinct and there, it's really just in passing. I must say that I am impressed with the way you take care of everyone. From your team to your driver, the sheriff and his deputies to the staff here. I really, I am embarrassed to admit, thought you were much more self-centered than you are. I apologize for misjudging you."

"You've just caught me on a bad day," he said, deflecting her compliment with a smirk, "I'm really very shallow and egotistical."

She shook her head. "No, Mr. Castle…"

He put up a palm to her. "Captain, you don't need to be so formal, Rick or Castle if you prefer."

She made a face. "I'm not sure I'd be comfortable with anything but Mr. Castle, but I'll consider it. Are you sure you should have submerged that wound? She asked as she pointed to the bandage on his forearm.

"Probably not, but at least it's clean." He grinned his charm the pants off of you lop-sided smile.

To his surprise, she smiled back. "Well," she said clapping her hands together. "I'm going to get in. How's the water?"

"It's comfortable. Sometimes heated pools are too warm. It throws off my workout. Pools need to be cooler to get the blood pumping."

"I agree." She turned her back to him, walked to the chairs, and draped her robe on the back.

"I'm just going to soak in the spa, a bit," he said pointing over his shoulder.

She stopped and asked, "Is that a good idea, considering your concussion?"

His eyes flashed angrily before he regained control. "I'm fine, Captain," he said tight-lipped.

She nodded, wondering what she just witnessed and stepped into the water.

He turned and took a breath. Getting enough air seemed to be difficult. He gulped another breath, walked to the controls, paused as a wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him. Breathing through it, he turned on the controls, set the timer, and watched as the jets forced bubbles to erupt the surface of the water. He stuck a toe in to check the temperature and smiled. He dropped his robe and towel and slid into the warmth. His eyelids rapidly became heavy and he felt like there was something he should do but he just could not remember. He would just take a nap. A soothing, restful nap. He began to float.

* * *

"Whose body?"

"I don't know ma'am, but it's bloody. He must have really pissed them off."

"Let's not assume we know what we have here, trooper."

He nodded, "Yes, ma'am."

Erika pulled out her flashlight and ducked down to enter the cave. The narrow beam of her Maglite reflected the glossy anthracite that dotted the walls. As she ventured deeper into the cave the stench of sweat and blood irritated her nostrils. She put her hand over her nose and mouth to stave off the offensive odors. She reached the crime scene. Spec op had set up their flashlights. The sight was gruesome. The victim appeared to be Clint Russell. She held her phone by his face; or rather, what could be discerned. The scene was horrific. Blood covered the floor, walls, the body, everywhere. Clint's wrists, thighs, and neck had been slit. Upon inspection, Erika could see the bullet wound in his leg. The one that led them to this. "Alright, we know this is the other accomplice, Clint Russell. This appears to have happened only a couple of hours ago, at the most. Leland," she called.

"Ma'am?" The trooper answered.

"Recruit a contingent of four to stand watch until Sheriff Callis can get his ECU here. The rest of us will continue. They're not that far ahead." She said as she glanced at what was left of Clint Russell. If this were how they rewarded their friends, they would not hesitate to take out her entire team. Erika shivered as she considered the consequences.

* * *

"Castle!"

"Mr. Castle!"

"God, Javi, help me haul him out."

"Castle, hey there. He's opening his eyes. Man, you had us worried."

He opened his eyes to Beckett's lovely, but worried face. "Beckett?"

"Yeah, you stupid son of…What the hell were you thinking?"

He blinked a couple of times. "Um…"

"You almost drowned, Rick."

"What? No, I just fell asleep. It was warm…"

"You passed out. God, Castle. You have a concussion. You don't go into hot tubs with a concussion, especially alone."

"I was feeling fine," he lied.

"Captain Gates came down to do laps and saw you sliding under. She pulled you up and tried to revive you."

Castle searched the faces for Gates'. "Thank you, Captain. Beckett," he said eyeing the captain, "I'm fine, just over exerted a bit."

"Over exerted? You jackass!" she screamed as she punched him in the chest. She stood and ran up the ramp and out the door.

Castle sat up, ran a hand over his face. "Shit." He stood slowly and steadied himself.

"Bro, do you think you should walk around already?"

"I don't think I have a choice, Javi." Esposito shrugged and nodded, but kept an eye on him as he made his way up the ramp.

"Kate?" he called as he entered the changing room. "Come on, I'm sorry, okay? It was stupid."

"That's the second time in the last four hours you've apologized and realized that you're stupid. God Castle, what were you thinking?" She met him by the laundry bins just inside the door.

He looked at her and realized she'd been crying. "I," he began and reached for her face. She pulled away but he captured her face in his palms. He ran the pad of his thumb across the tear track on her cheek. "Kate, I'm sorry, I really was feeling fine when I went in. I was just trying to relax." He added, "I wasn't alone." She raised an eyebrow. "Gates was in the pool."

"Oh, so are you and the captain buddies now?"

"I wouldn't say buddies, but she apologized to me for misjudging me." Kate raised her eyebrows. "I know, right?" He said, grinning.

"Castle," she turned to him and made sure he was looking at her by laying her hands on either side of his face. He winced slightly when her fingers grazed the bruise at his temple. "I want you to call Dr. Burke."

He pulled away, huffily. "What? Why?"

She inhaled to steady herself and reached for his hands. "Please Rick; you're taking unnecessary risks, the panic attacks, biting people's heads off. Come on, even you must recognize it."

"Even me?" He asked tight-lipped. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"See? You're doing it right now. That's not like you." She held her hands out plaintively.

He stood stock still and quietly as he thought about what she said. He breathing was labored as he looked into her eyes. "Kate? I," he swallowed, his eyes suddenly fearful, he swallowed and continued, "I think they're winning," he choked out and collapsed, trembling into her arms.


End file.
